I do not own 'The Hunger Games' or anything related.
Roaring with laughter was probably not the most sensitive reaction to an accidental reveal of being in love with someone who was ultimately their competition in a death match. But I couldn't help it. I couldn't help but laugh at the sheer tragedy of the whole thing, of the poor luck, that this boy, who's had a crush on this girl for who knows how long, that he's been too nervous to talk to, only to end up being chosen as her fellow tribute, where only one of them could live. The boy went even redder (for other reasons). I patted him on the leg.
"That is some bad luck you have there, boy!" I told him, and I meant it.
Oh if only the capitol knew! Doomed love. It's the sort of thing they would eat up!
Wait a minute.
It IS the sort of thing they would eat up!
My mind started to whirl, as I thought of it, of the boy confessing his love for his fellow tribute, how the capitol audience would feel, would weep for the poor boy. It would put District 12 on the map. Potential sponsors would pay attention to District 12, become invested in the boy's romance. They would send gifts so that the 'story' would last longer, or for the girl, wanting her to live as much as the boy did. And if it so happened if they were the final two in the arena… Being genuine friends forced to fight to the death was one thing, but as lovers?
But wait, they wouldn't be lovers, would they? After all, these were just the boy's feelings, not the girl's. But if he made his feelings clear, and she heard it, people would start to wonder if perhaps she reciprocates his feelings, they would debate about it, and that would be enough. I explained my plan to the boy.
"Really?" He brightened, "You think this will help her, too?"
Well that proved it. He definitely was in love with her if he valued her survival as well as his, maybe even more than his.
"Oh it will definitely help her, too!"
"And, do you think people will believe it?"
"Trust me boy, you'll have no problem convincing the capitol about your love! Course," I glanced in the girl's direction, "It's her who will need more convincing."
Most likely, she would probably consider any public expression of love as just a strategy he came up with, possibly with my help. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if she's been considering the numerous ways he's been planning to kill her from the moment they were chosen, when the exact opposite was true.
So for the rest of our session I decided to coach the boy as to how to express his feelings, and more importantly, how to portray the girl. At first I asked him if he knew the girl had any other admirers.
"Well, there is this tall boy that she hangs around with. And I think one of my friends might have expressed some interest in her-"
"So if Caesar asks you if she's with someone, say that a lot of boys like her."
"But- that's not exactly true."
"It doesn't matter! You have to sell her! Making her an object of desire, not just for you, but for others, will make her appear that more desirable, and far more likely to get sponsors! Now, earlier you told me that you didn't think she thought you existed."
"Well, I didn't, not until that conversation where she talked about seeing me at the market and knew that I came second in wrestling and…"
I got that he was also thinking of that other incident.
"Forget that. Tell him that you didn't think she even knew you were alive until the reaping."
"But, that's not true either! How is that supposed to help her?"
"It's to help yourself! Remember Boy, you need to garner the Capitol's sympathy."
"Isn't the fact that we're fighting to the death enough?"
"No," I flatly told him.
"But saying that she never knew I existed, won't that make her seem cold?"
"Not cold. Just oblivious to the fact that out of all the hundreds of boys in District 12 there's been one who's been in love with her forever."
I could tell that the boy wasn't comfortable with this, exaggerating the number of admirers the girl had or how ignorant she had been to his existence.
"Maybe she should let Katniss know what we're planning."
"Boy, this is supposed to be you declaration of love to her, you can't do that if you've already done it!"
"Yeah, but, I don't have to tell her it's how I really feel! I can just say it's just an act-"
"Trust me, boy, you'll get a better reaction if it's genuine! Besides, it's only in case Caesar presses on you about the issue, and only if he says something like if you win this thing, you go back home and ask her! It's just in case, right?"
"Right."
The boy didn't sound convinced. I patted him on the shoulder.
"Now let's go get some lunch."
"Haymitch?"
I looked at him.
"Can we please keep this between us? I mean it is just in case the situation arises, right?"
I wasn't sure that my other teammates would approve of withholding such a revolutionary plan from the rest of them, but I could tell looking at the boy's face that he did not want anyone else to know about his feelings.
"Alright."
We joined Effie and the girl for lunch. Effie seemed to be in a bad mood. That was a bad omen. I wondered what could have happened between her and the girl. She couldn't have been as bad as I was! I remember how during the preparation every instruction Mrs Charm would give me in order to present myself to the Capitol, I would do the exact obvious. When she told me to sit up straight I slouched. When she told me to keep my legs uncrossed I crossed them. When she told me to keep my arms on the arms of the chair I'd fold them. When she told me to make eye contact I'd look away. When she'd tell me to shake hands I'd keep mine. When she told me to smile I grimaced. After the umpteenth phrase where I refused to smile she finally lost patience with me.
"I am trying to help you!" She shouted at me, standing up, "Don't you understand the importance of presenting yourself to the capitol-"
"OH WHY DOES IT MATTER?" I shouted, standing up myself, "What's the point? The only point of all this is to get sponsors, but Ms Wallace isn't going to bother getting us any! She doesn't care! So what's the point of being presentable?"
She gave me a concerned look. I realised that my eyes were starting to feel moist.
"Not that I care."
At once I sat back down with my arms crossed, my eyes fixed on the ground. I felt a hand on my knee.
"Haymitch."
I looked up at Mrs Charm. This was the first time she addressed me by my first name.
"I care."
I laughed.
"No you don't! Or what, are you trying to tell me that you're not like the rest of the capitol, who take enjoyment in our deaths? And if you do care about our survival it's only because you want to boast about how you have a victor!"
"Well, regardless of my motives, I do care. I'm not going to abandon you to your fate. And I'm not going anywhere."
I chuckled.
"You say that now, Eula, but twenty years after this conversation, you retired. You left me, just like everyone else."
"Keep you mind focused on the present, Mr Abernathy!"
Mrs Charm stood up.
"Now then, do you want to guide Katniss through the interview now?"
I was startled by the question.
"What?"
"I said do you want to guide Katniss through the interview now?" Effie asked me.
I blinked as I found myself back in the present.
"Um, yes, give me a moment."
I couldn't help but notice the looks that the boy were giving her, now that I knew how he felt about her. And I couldn't help but wonder if the girl felt the same way. Unlikely. Then again, I thought about their conversation before, how she had described his activities in the market as accurately as the details she would note while in the woods, or little things like being second in the wrestling championship. And then there was that line, about her being a survivor because of him...
When we went into the other room and I sat her down, I started to examine her, wondering what angle to take with her.
"What?" She eventually asked.
"I'm just wondering what to do with you."
"What's Peeta's strategy?" She asked, "Or am I not allowed to ask?"
Her sharp words were irritating me.
"Likeable," I tell her, "Whereas every time you open your mouth you come across as moody and irritable."
"I do not!" She retorted, only proving my point.
I tried to ask questions about her, like her home life, but she only refused to answer, and by the end of it she was shouting her answers.
"Alright!" I told her, telling her that not only does she come across as sullen and hostile, but I don't know anything about her.
I reminded her that the Capital wants to know her.
"But I don't want to know them! They're already taking my future, I can't let them have the things that mattered to me in the past, too!"
"Well then make something up!" I tell her.
Didn't she think I knew how she felt? That I, out of all people, knew how it felt, to be paraded in front of people like a prized pet? But at the same time you can own them. You can have them eating out of your hand.
"I'm not good at lying," She told me.
No. I guess that's the difference between her and me, despite the fact that we both wear masks. My mask is based on lying, on deflecting how I truly feel. Hers is based on not saying anything at all. And the problem with that is at least my mask had some character, had something that people could like. It was very hard to feel anything for a mask that was expressionless.
"Well you're going to have to learn fast, because right now you have as much charm as a dead slug!"
I realised I went too far, even for me, from the look she gave me. So I tried a different approach. I asked her to try gushing. But when it became clear she couldn't gush, I asked her to try cocky, which was my approach, but she just didn't have the arrogance. Then we tried ferocious, but she was too vulnerable. I started drinking around witty. Funny. Sexy. Mysterious, which I was so sure would be my best bet!
"I give up!" I said, "Just do your best and try to make sure that the audience doesn't know how openly you despise them."
I walked out of there. The same hopelessness that had plagued me for years had gripped me again. I meant what I said when I said she was shining like a star, but if her interview was anything like it was with me, then it meant that star will come crashing down and explode on impact. At least the boy was interviewable. And then there is that secret plan we have, that could probably improve her chances. Just as well.
The girl didn't join us for dinner. I was glad that she didn't. It was times like these that I was glad that I never had children, even if I wasn't an alcoholic. Oh sure, I was fine with little kids, but teenagers? Shudder. Moody, irritable, prone at the slightest provocation or the wrong word could set them off, only made much worse with the threat of their impending doom. And consider that my job is to mentor them! A couple of weeks was enough for me. I wouldn't want to be responsible for them for their entire adolescence! Not all teenagers were bad, mind you, but a lot of them were, and this girl was the worst. And considering that I have mentored nearly fifty of them, that's saying something! Surly, aggressive, moody. It was hard to believe that she was Everdeen's daughter. Everdeen! A guy who was always so patient. Sure he got angry too, but with reason! Yet it was clear that whereas the girl had his skin, hair and eye colour, as well as his archery and hunting skills, she had inherited none of his good nature. Her ma's? Forget it. I stabbed my steak repeatedly with a knife. It's weird, but if I have to say who she does remind me of, it's me. It makes me wonder if I did have children, like a daughter, she would have grown up to be just like me. If that was so then I was glad that I never had children, as we would have probably driven each other crazy! No. It's not just me she reminds me of. That moment where she almost stabbed my hand earlier. That look she gave me, that killer look. She reminded me of Ray. bearta. In fact, that moment earlier reminded me so much of the arguments we used to have. It made me wonder if she had come back in the form of this girl just to torment me some more. Wouldn't put it past her to do something like that. Hmm. So this girl is like if me and Ray had a - at that point I ran to the bathroom to vomit, as the thought of me and Ray having a baby made me want to puke.
The next day it was the prep teams' turn to make the tributes look presentable. Cinna noted mine and Effie's bad moods.
"I take it it didn't go so well with Katniss?"
"You could say that," I told him.
"Do you mind if I have a go?"
"Knock yourself out," I shrugged.
It annoyed me that this fashion designer thought he would have better luck with the girl. After all, he wasn't her mentor. I was!
When we all met up again, the girl complimented Effie. I guess she had forgiven her for whatever happened in their session yesterday. But I noticed she made effort not to look at me. I guess she was still mad at me, even though I only did my best to help her.
OK, I admit I went too far by saying she had the charm of a dead slug.
"What did you tell her?" I asked Cinna before we took our seats.
"I told her to be herself," he told me.
Be herself? That's the last thing I would have told her to do! When she took her place on with Caesar Flickerman, I really thought that the star would fall on the stage and set everything ablaze.
Luckily it didn't go as disastrously as I dreaded. Sure, it wasn't the best interview, but it was passable at least! Except for one moment, when Caesar brought up her sister. The girl talked about her, about how she loved her more than anything in the world. You could tell it was hard for her to talk about her, but she was able to anyway. She told everyone how her sister asked her to try to really win, and she swore she would. I choked a little when she said that. Probably because I knew what it was like to have a younger sibling, to be willing to do anything to protect them, but I could tell from the silence of the crowd that the capitol were hooked on every word. When her time was up I let out a sigh of relief, and the applause she got long afterwards was very assuring. I guess being herself wasn't as self-destructive as I feared. I only wished that she could have been like that with me.
Then came the boy's interview, and I knew I didn't have to worry about him. It went well as expected. The only thing that worried me was that Caesar wouldn't ask him what I wanted him to ask, or at least not press the issue, but ask him he did, and as expected, Caesar pressed him for details after the boy denied it. And as practised, the boy mentioned his someone, talked about how he didn't think she knew he existed, how she has a number of admirers. And as expected, you could hear the sounds of sympathy from the crowd. Next expected on what Caesar would say.
"You win this thing, you go home and tell her how you feel. She can't turn you down after that, am I right?"
And there it was!
"I don't think that's going to help me."
"Why not?"
I told the boy to act confidentially but sombre, but honestly this was better, when he went red, as he stammered, that he struggled to get the words out. It made it look more authentic. Which of course, it was.
"Because - because - because she came here with me!"
I knew that with the deafening cries of the audience that they had been won over. District 12 was now far ahead of everyone else. I also took a look at the girl. Her mouth was open, half surprised and half protesting. Blushing, she looked down at the floor.
Afterwards, people gave me their weeping condolences over my poor tributes' situation. The description 'Star-Crossed lovers' gained currency all around.
It went better than I could have hoped. Even Effie was in tears.
"Oh, oh that poor boy!" She cried, dabbing her eyes.
Cinna and Portia, however, gave me a couple of cynical looks.
"Did you know that was going to happen?" Cinna asked me in the elevator, "About what Peeta would say about Katniss?"
I grinned.
"He might have mentioned it to me in confidence."
The doors opened. Inside we saw Peeta on the floor, bloodied pieces of urn everywhere, with Katniss towering above him.
"What happen? Did you fall?" Effie asked.
"Yeah. After she shoved me."
